Rhythm is supreme

If I were asked, ...’what is the most important element of music?’, I would answer, ...’rhythm’. For actually, you cannot have melody without rhythm. In order of importance, first comes the rhythm or phrasing, second comes melody, third the harmony.

I believe there are some artist’s like Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra, who don’t have the most perfect singing voices, yet are so popular. I believe the key to their popularity is their phrasing, or, the way Miles put it, the space between the notes. That is what defines rhythm, the space between the notes. Sometimes the most important thing is not what note to sing, but when to sing it. Have you ever heard someone with a trained voice that cannot sing in time, or who’s phrasing is stilted? I have. No matter how good the quality of their voice is, they won’t be nice to listen to if they can’t phrase well.


Good phrasing is an important thing for a musician to be aware of, yet it’s one of the hardest things to teach. In that way it’s similar to the concept of swing. Swing’s a bit hard to describe but easy to feel. Good phrasing is a characteristic which has nothing to do with speed or technique. Take for example a comparison of McCoy Tyner and Grant Green. One plays many notes and the other tends to play few notes, yet both have great phrasing and feeling (check out Green’s album ‘ Matador’ with Tyner on piano).

Technique and speed are easy to explain and practice, it’s simply an matter of repetition.

 
It’s more than the notes


I once heard a drummer complain about Elvin Jones being sloppy. I think that’s a pointless comment. Even if he were sloppy, who cares if he can swing and play like that? Drum machines are not sloppy at all but I won’t enjoy listening to one for long! I have an album featuring Jim Hall and Art Farmer playing with Steve Gadd on drums. While Steve doesn’t play any ‘mistakes’, his precise style doesn’t swing enough to adequately accompany Hall and Farmer. John Williams plays amazingly perfect guitar, but when it comes to the very romantic Spanish styles, I prefer someone who interprets the music more slowly, rubato, and less machine like. Similarly there are a lot of guitar players who play rock and blues very well but I don’t care for their ‘straight ahead’ jazz playing, even though they know well what scales and notes to play. To me for example, Mike Stern sounds better when he’s playing rock or fusion than when he plays a standard like Stella by Starlight. Hendrix played out of tune and sloppy at times, but I still love the expressiveness of his playing. Who else could get the guitar to speak like that? Grant Green plays very few notes and simple blues motifs, but I love his feel and innate sense of rhythm.

Music is not an exact science (even science is not an exact science!), and it’s better to play ‘ feelingly’ than ‘perfectly’.

 
Art or craft?

I feel there is a subtle distinction between an artist and a craftsman. A craftsman can be impressive, dazzling one with technique honed through many hours of practice. They can copy an artist’s style so well that it’s difficult to tell the difference between the original artist and the one who copies. One can easily respect the craftsman for their patience and hard, hard work. Most artist’s, indeed, would not choose to do what the craftsman does. But a craftsman cannot do what the creative artist does. An artist blazes their own path, usually in the face of opposition. Take Miles Davis early in his career, surrounded by Bird, Diz, and Fats, all players who could play higher and faster than him. But instead of trying to copy them he developed his own unique style. And when Coltrane came on the scene many criticized him for his ‘raw’, grating sound. Once the reigning sax player of the day heard Charlie Parker play tenor, and was quoted as saying a tenor should not be played that fast. Their detractors were many! But eventually all these musicians forged new ground and became famous for the very thing they were criticized for. That’s because true artist’s are always ‘ahead of their time’, and it can take years for the audience at large to recognize their genius. In fact, sometimes the artist is dead before they get the recognition they deserve. How many of our great classical composers died penniless and un-appreciated because they had forged new ground?

To be a craftsman, one must copy. To be an artist, one must create.

 
Open your ears

When I was into rock music like Black Sabbath and Deep Purple, I was given some different records to listen to, like Genesis and Yes. The new music didn’t appeal to me at first. It took some listening time before I liked the new records. The first time I listened to Brahms Violin Concerto, I couldn’t get into it, but I kept listening and now it’s one of my favorites. This has helped teach me an important lesson. If you patiently listen to any good music, putting your judgement aside, you will learn to appreciate it. Humans are creatures of habit. What we think is good or bad depends on what we’re used to. Our ears are bombarded daily by computer generated ‘muzak’, designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Giving a Bela Bartok record to the average person is like giving a great literary novel to someone who’s spent their whole life reading trashy romance written by formula to sell, sell, sell. They won’t have the patience for anything really good, because they’re not used to it. But that problem can be overcome through exposure. In order to really appreciate good music you have to listen often, and patiently.

 
In and out

I personally feel that one can play ‘free’ only after they can play ‘inside’. I believe it’s vital to understand and assimilate what came before us. So, when it comes to avant-garde styles, I tend to prefer those who arrived at that style through years of development, like Trane and Miles, as opposed to those who pick up an instrument and play whatever they feel without studying some of what came before them. Sometimes the evolution to ‘freer’ forms of improvisation is quite natural. This is because as we become exposed to more music our ears become more ‘open’. Our definition of dissonance broadens. What was dissonant years ago is now melodious, what seemed a-rhythmic then, now makes sense. If you love music, the music will draw you in and you will find yourself being challenged. You will seek new sounds and new expressions. What is ‘in’ or ‘out’ is a matter of perception and training (though we are well reminded that ...’It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing’...)!

 
page 1 / page 2 / page 3 / page 4 / page 5
 
 
ページトップへ